Duty Calls and the Heart Shall Wait
by Imagination
Summary: (continuation of And It Came to This) Terry and Max have been married for some time and are now experiencing difficulties. Will they be able to overcome their problems? And will an individual from their past interfere? *UPDATE*
1. Contemplation

Duty Calls, and the Heart Shall Wait  
Disclaimer: All names and likenesses are property of DC comics. Don't sue me.  
  
In the picture was a man, not just any man, but a great man. The grayness of his hair was distinguished and the his temples expressed his seriousness. His eyes were those of a man who had been hardened by life, in fact consumed by it. His mouth was one that rarely curled for a smile, it seemed like it had never moved from that straight, depressing line.  
  
"Mommy, will you read me a story? Puh-lease?" My son's innocent words broke my concentration on the picture above the fireplace.  
"It's past your bedtime, you know that. Plus I read that book to you last night." I said, combing my fingers through his curly dark brown hair, revealing his olive tone forehead.  
"Puh-lease?" He whimpered again.  
"Warren, you know better than to argue with me." I said in a tone harsher than I wanted it to be, with a glare more piercing than I intended. Warren could sense my impatience with him and reluctantly sauntered to his room. "I'll be up in a minute to tuck you in." I said trying to sound more gentle, more motherly.  
  
I pulled myself off of the ottoman I was sitting on, and glanced at the picture once more. Every night I would force myself up the flight of stairs that lead to the bedrooms. First to the bedroom of my son, whom I would wrestle into bed and then tuck in with words about how much I loved him. The hardest trek of all however, was down the hall a short distance to the my bedroom.  
  
"Mommy," I heard my son call my name. I turned around slightly, wondering what new excuse he had to stall for more time to be awake.   
"Yes, Warren," I said with a sigh, as I turned and walked back to his room.  
"When's daddy gonna come home?" He said with his big, light brown begging to be closed.  
"He'll be home soon. I'll make sure he gives you a kiss when he gets in, okay?" I said, with deep sadness and even regret in my voice.  
"Okay," he said with a big yawn, one filled with just as much sadness.  
  
Finally in my room, I did a half-hearted belly flop onto the bed and buried my head in one of the many plush pillows. Over the years these pillows had become my closest friends, knowing all the secrets my heart ever held. Of course, I couldn't tell anyone else about my problems. But my pillows are perfect, they absorb all the pain I inflict on them and never protest.  
  
I suppose I should be used to these lonely, anxious nights. Terry and I have been together for eight years now, so these lonely nights should be a common practice. Maybe I am use to these lonely nights, maybe it's the lonely days that are catching up with my heart. I don't know how I convinced myself that being married to him would be simple, that we would spend our nights romping about the city, sharing a romance with the streets. The blindfolds of youth and love shielded my eyes, and now the glare of maturity and marriage have opened them.   
  
It was fine at the beginning when Terry first became CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He did everything that he said he always would. The company no longer operated according to the wills of greedy men. He instituted new practices that would ensure that what happened to his father would never happen again. Things weren't difficult then, Terry kept most of the employees that were there when he took over, but when the company ventured out into new areas, Terry had to completely restructure Wayne Enterprises. That's when our relationship began to go through troubled waters. He began to come home later from the office and leave early for his "night job". He would come in three, four, sometimes five o'clock in the morning and would be gone again before I would wake up.   
  
Then I got pregnant. The day I realized that I could possibly be pregnant was one of the happiest days of my life. Sure I was thrilled to become a mother, but I was also happy because I figured that a child would be the solution to our many problems. And for a while, Warren Bruce McGinnis was the answer to our relationship problems. Terry was completely dedicated to being a great father, and believe me he was. He was there for me for doctor's appointments, birth classes, and the day Warren was born. I enjoyed the nights when we would both rock him to sleep, read to him, and even sing to him. Terry would bring me to tears sometimes when I saw him interact with Warren. When Warren would wake up in the middle of the night, Terry would get up and take midnight strolls around the manor telling Warren everything about anything. Warren would shriek with delight.   
  
However, as Warren got older, he and I began to see less of Terry. Don't get me wrong, he does an excellent job as a husband and father given his position. And I have done an excellent job of being understanding of the passion he has for Wayne Enterprises and Gotham City.  
  
So I as I continued to lay there, I surprised myself and let a tear fall. It slowly trickled down my cheek and fell onto the pillow. The pillow turns a darker shade of khaki as it absorbs the moisture, the pain. That first tear opened a floodgate and I began to sob uncontrollably. You ask a lot of me McGinnis, and sometimes you ask too much. 


	2. Return

Duty Calls and the Heart Shall Wait  
Chapter 2  
Disclaimer: Batman and all other likeness are property of DC Comics. Don't sue me.  
  
"Man, I'm glad to be home," I said with a sigh, as I slumped over the side of the Batplane. I lay there, I rested my eyes for a few minutes and then quickly looked up. A quarter past three. Using all the energy my body had left, I hopped out of the plane and felt a pain reminding me of my swollen shoulder. I slowly walked over to the lab table, undressing as I went. I picked up my favorite pair of trackpants, ones that I've been wearing since college. After slipping them on, I lay the batsuit on the table for a night of reprogramming. I checked the alarm system on the batcomputer which reported no problems, hit the lights, and made my way up stairs.  
  
I didn't even have the clock closed before Ace was there licking my hand. "Hey there boy! I can tell you missed me!" I whispered rubbing him behind the ears, his favorite spot. He was under my feet until I made it to the kitchen where I refilled his watering bowl. As I put the water back in the refrigerator, I saw a note Max left me. Preparing for a few sentences of profanity as an opening, I picked up the note and began to read:  
  
"Terry, we ordered in tonight. Left you half of a veggie lovers pizza in the stove. Your mom called, again. The office called too, something about some meeting was canceled. Warren was playing in the toilet in the hall and flushed something down there. Will you fix it ASAP? Love, Max."  
  
Behind it was a little note from my son. He had attempted to write "I love you dad" but didn't quite make it. I was mildly shocked by Max's letter. I was fully expecting to be cussed out and maybe even banished to the couch for a few nights. True, Max was used to me coming home at odd hours of night, but this had been the third straight night coming home later than three. On top of that, I hadn't been at home during the day much either. Lately, it has been really hectic for me, and Max has been very understanding about it, but I can tell she is not happy. She doesn't know that I have noticed the tear stained pillows. She has no idea how much it kills me to see that. I can't even stand to imagine how Warren handles my absence. Being three he doesn't really notice the strain that Max is under, the arguments with our eyes that she and I have at the dinner table. He doesn't understand why I'm at the office all the time and not at home to play with him. Every time I get a free moment, I try to spend it with him. Even then he'll ask me if I have to go to work, and I know he asks Max even more. Every time it's the same excuse, "Daddy's at work. He has a lot of business to take care of." But Warren has Max's gene for intelligence. Heck, he's three and can already add and subtract and almost read as well as his older cousins. He knows when things are bad, and it won't be long before he allows himself to hate me for what I do now.   
  
I took the letter from Max, threw it in the trash and found an empty magnet to hang up Warren's picture. Not feeling really hungry, I turned out all the lights and went upstairs. First I peeked into Warren's room. Like most nights he was half- way on the floor. I quietly tiptoed over to his new big boy bed, picked him up and gently slid him back into the bed. I re-tucked him in, hoping this time he would stay in the bed. Before I left, I gently pulled his thumb out of his mouth. "You'll thank me for that one day," I thought with a chuckle. I turned around to make my way out of the door, careful not to trip over any of his toys. My efforts were in vain because three feet from the door I stepped on one of his markers, nearly falling.  
"Daddy," I heard his tiny whisper.   
"What's up," I said walking over and kneeling by his bed again.   
"Nothin'. Where you been?" he said his big brown eyes staring at mine.  
"I had a lot of work to finish tonight. Were you good for mommy today?  
"Yep and she ordered me a movie. It made me laugh a lot. Mommy laughed a lot too."   
"That's good. Now it's late you need to be asleep."  
"Okay," he whispered as I kissed him on his forehead.  
  
Finally I made it to my bedroom. I walked silently as possible across the hardwood floor of the sitting room that was right before the actual bedroom. As I opened the two French doors that led to our bedroom, I saw Max laying out on top of the bed clutching a pillow. The tv was still on, and a man with the most fake sounding British accent was telling about a device that ironed socks. I reached over Max, found the remote and turned off the tv. I pulled back the covers and tried to slide her under them, but Max, who is pretty hard sleeper, woke up.  
"You made it back all right ?" she asked groggily, rubbing her eyes.   
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said sliding under the covers.  
"What's that bulge on you right arm?"  
"A spliced dragon- creature-person -thing smacked me pretty hard. It's nothin' really. I've had worse."   
"Come on to the cave and let me put something on that," She said sliding off the bed pulling me with her. " You're fine for right now, but tomorrow is another story. Your shoulder will be twice it's size, and I don't want Warren asking questions."  
Obediently, I followed Max to the batcave. She went into a side room and came back with bandages and an ice pack. In silence, she began to work on my arm.   
"So did you get my message?" I said trying to get a much needed conversation started.  
"Yeah, I looked up all the info you needed. I put it in a desktop file on the computer." Max said not once looking at me.  
"You remember, when we thought splicing was actually cool and Chelsea had her eyes done." I chuckled, hoping Max would too. She still didn't respond. I changed subjects. "That creature's tail manage to cut one of my main circuits. Most of my power supply to my right side is gone."  
"I can fix it," she said concentrating on the tangled bandage "and maybe if you would stay in one place for a few days, I can re-wire the suit with new impenetrable circuitry." I didn't bother to reply to that knowing an argument would be soon to follow. Don't get me wrong, Max isn't the one to stay on my tail about my keeping late hours and being gone most of the time, but when you haven't seen someone in three days, I suppose she has the right to be at least mad.  
  
As she continued to work on my arm, I took long hard look at her. She was still fine as ever, and she still had the body she had when we were in high school. She and I had been through a lot in just eight short years of marriage, things that most women would have had their bags packed and been out the door in a heartbeat. Not Max. She stayed with me the whole way through and was nice about it the majority of the time.  
"Why are you looking like that?" Max said, looking me in the eye for the first time that night.  
"Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a woman like you." I said as I began to caress her cheek. She moved her head slightly, trying to avoid my touch.  
"Didn't have very many choices did you?" She replied curtly. Boy, I wasn't off the hook tonight. "There I'm finished." Max had wrapped my shoulder up nice and tight, too tight for that matter. She began picking up all her instruments and throwing them back in the kit. As she was walking back to the medical room, I decided to plead this one out.  
"Max, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." I braced for a response.  
"The heck it won't," she replied turning around. "You know, Terry, I'm not mad because you came in late or that I really haven't seen you three whole days. That comes with the territory. I'm mad because you didn't take the time to at least check in with me. God knows what could've happened to you."  
"I left you that note-"  
"This morning." She finished my sentence. "But what about the other two days. Why are you shutting me out of this part of your life?"  
"I'm not trying to do that, Max, but with Warren being so young and always with you- how are you supposed to be really involved?"  
"It's not like I want to suit up and fight crime with you again. I'm a first time mother and going thirty freakin' years old! Of course I don't want to be involved in that way! And if you would slow down for just a second then we could find time when Warren is asleep or visiting our parents to talk for awhile."  
"Max, you know Wayne Enterprises is trying to get a leg up in the new weapons venture. At times my presence determines if we can get ahead of the game. And I can't really trust anyone down there. If I leave that place for five seconds, you'll have someone trying to do any and everything that's illegal."  
"Well, if I still had my position this-"  
"Don't start with that again, that was my mother not me." With that Max was silent. I waited for her next argument but it didn't come. She was sitting on the side of the batcomputer playing with her hands. I slowly walked over to her and wrapped her in a strong hug.  
"You remember when we were kids," she began slowly," and this all seemed like it would be easier, that our relationship wouldn't suffer through marriage problems like our folks."  
"Yeah," I sighed stroking her hair. "But there's one difference."  
"Yeah," she looked up in my eyes.  
"We're going to make this one last." I gave Max a reassuring hug, and she returned it with a deep kiss. At least, for the time being, I knew that everything was going to be okay.   
  
Note to readers: I can assure you that I will try my best not to portray Max as a house wife. But you must remember, lifestyles change when children enter the picture. 


	3. Old Friend

Duty Calls and the Heart Shall Wait  
Chapter 3  
by Imagination  
  
I woke up the next day with a strange feeling of utter peace. Maybe it was because Terry and I made love for the first time since God knows when. Maybe because it was nice to see him playing in the yard with Warren. Maybe it was because I had Terry to myself for the next few days.  
  
I was sitting in the window rubbing Ace's ears and watching Terry and Warren wrestle and run around. Warren would jump on top of Terry and playfully punch him, the Terry would flip over pick Warren up and pretend like he was biting his feet. Chuckling, I thought about how Terry was just a really big kid at heart. Warren had picked up his laser gun and shot at Terry. Of course he was a little off aim, but Terry was a good sport and gave a death scene worthy of an Oscar. When he was finally "dead", he gave me a coy smile and a little wink. By then I was laughing myself to tears. However, the ringing of the telephone halted my fun.  
  
"Hello," I answered the phone, trying to catch my breath.  
"You seem pretty happy-for a change." remarked my sister Michelle.  
"I'm laughing at Terry and his silly self. But what's up?" I said finally breathing normally.  
"Oh you mean he is actually at home?"  
"Yes, can you believe it? His meeting was canceled today and the office has a long weekend, so I have him here for awhile."  
"Good, because that man-"  
"Please don't start, not today." There was a hint of annoyance in my voice. "I'm in a wonderful mood today, let's not ruin it."  
"Well anyway," she continued, "I was wondering if you want to go with me to a gallery opening tonight-I mean- if you can. You know it could be girl's-night-out. Tim is willing to keep Jerren and Warren. He's says he might take them to the movies or something."  
"I suppose I can go. Terry said he was going to spend the whole day at home, so he can keep Warren, but even still I would need to be back by nine." It was easy for me to go places during the day and leave Warren with Terry, but around nine o' clock Terry needs to head out to do his patrols.   
"Okay, but I don't know why a twenty- nine year old woman needs a curfew, but it starts at seven so that gives us at least two hours. I'll pick you up at 6:30." Hanging up the phone, I wished that my sister would somehow understand why things are like they are. Of course I can't tell her, or my mom, or my dad and that puts a real strain on me. I have to constantly endure lectures from my mom about "keeping my house in order" and lectures from my dad about how he always told me I could do better than Terry. Funny how they get on my case about how I live my life, when they did the exact same things when I was a kid. I see myself following in their footsteps and it scares me. Ending up like my folks is one of my two greatest fears, one of the things my nightmares made of. My second fear scares me so much I don't put it into words, scared that if I do, I will give that fear power.  
  
  
The clock in the bathroom read six, and I only had a half hour to get ready for the art show. Stepping out of the bath tub, I wrapped myself in a towel and went into my closet searching for something to wear. The whole right side and back of our huge walk-in closet belonged to me. I pressed the code for evening gowns and watched the clothes revolve around. With one hand on my hip, I stood there trying to decide what I wanted to wear. The Gotham City Art Gallery is pretty high class and The Gotham Times usually sends out a few annoying reporters for the society page. With that in mind, I picked a simple short black Montulinni dress and a pair of Cho heels. I quickly slipped into the dress and stood in the mirror admiring my perfectly in shape body. The curves of my arms and legs proved that all that time I've spent in the gym did not go to waste. Leaving the closet, I went back to the bathroom and placed my hand on a tile next to the vanity. The mirrors began to slide back and I glanced at all my jewelry. Wanting to finish off my classic look, I grabbed my platinum earring and necklace set Terry bought me some odd years ago. By 6:20, I was making my way downstairs. I heard Terry reading Green Eggs and Ham in the den, so I stopped by the room to remind him I was leaving.   
  
"Terry, my sister should be here in a few minutes." I said as I stood in the door.  
"Now where are you going again?" He asked not turning around as Warren climbed off his lap and scurried across to me.  
"To the Gotham City Art Gallery. This artist my sister really wants to see is on display."  
"Okay, you'll be back by, you know, in time- whoa," He exclaimed finally turning around. "You look great. I mean, it's been a while since we've been to a gathering."  
"Yeah, I think I almost forgot how to dress." I said playing in Warren's hair.  
"Well you're memory must have came back fast." Terry said looking me up and down.  
"Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep."  
"That's Michelle. I just don't see why she can't some to the door."  
  
Carefully going down the steps of the manner, I made my way to my sister's convertible. I was walking really slow because had on my favorite pair of Cho heels, and I was not about to ruin them by stepping in a crack along the cobblestone path.  
"Darling, we don't have all night. Hurry up!" My sister called out.  
"When you give me the $500 to buy a new pair of these heels then I'll start walking faster." Finally I made it to the car and settled down in the seat.  
"For someone who is the wife of a freakin' billionaire, you sure are cheap." My sister cracked as she shifted the gear from park to reverse.  
"It comes from growing up with the queen of cheapness." I said eyeing my sister. "Miserly Michelle they used to call you."  
"I'm not cheap, I'm frugal."   
"Frugal. Yeah, that's right."  
"Hey, you're the one with all the money and without the sense to get a maid." She said as she picked up my fingers that were kind of in need of a manicure.  
"I don't want some stranger snooping around in my stuff. Anyway, it's just the three of us-"  
"The two of you."  
"It's just the three of us," I continued giving her an eye, "So it's not like I have enormous cleaning or cooking duties."  
"By the way you keep that house guarded, with all those fancy codes, I'd swear you had something to hide."  
"Maybe I do."  
  
The lights of the gallery were blinding as my sister and I rolled up to valet. As soon as I stepped out of the car a reporter for the Gotham Times was in my face.  
"Mrs. McGinnis, how do you feel about the new-"   
"She has no comment!" exclaimed my sister, interrupting the reporter, grabbing my arm, and dragging me away.  
"Thanks, I'm not in the mood for the media today. By the way who is the gallery showcasing tonight.?"  
"This new artist, Stepnik. He and I took Advanced Art at the Institute together. He was a freshman in high school, and I was a senior. He impressed us all. He's been making a lot of noise in Paris. I always liked him because of the way he catches the true essence of African Americans. You know the struggle, the triumph. Tonight, however, they have a special emphasis on his childhood scenes."  
We took our time gazing at each picture of the collection and coming up without our on interpretations.  
"I think this one expresses the true emotion-" I began.  
"Max, shut up. Stop trying to act like you know something about art."  
"What brings you two lovely ladies out this evening?" A deep voice interrupted us. My sister's mouth opened wide and then turned up into a gentle smile as we turned around to see who it was. I took a hard look at the gentlemen, for he seemed rather familiar.  
"Adam Stepnik," My sister said finally speaking. "I didn't expect you to be here tonight."  
"Well I wasn't supposed to, I had a bigger expo in Milan, but it was pushed aside for some fashion summit."  
"Steppy has finally made something of himself. I knew you had it in you." Michelle went on to say. "Man, I'm being rude. This is my sister Maxine."  
"Must you remind me of that nick name?" He chuckled. "Anyway, I have had the pleasure of being in a graduating class with her." He said as he turned to Max and gave a slight nod. "If you remember I only took a class at the Art Institute, I actually attended Hamilton High."  
"Max, why didn't you tell me you knew Adam?"  
"How was I supposed to know he was the same guy?" Max said looking a little sheepish. I hadn't seen Adam in almost eleven years. He still looked a lot like I remembered him, actually better. He was dressed in a expensive tux and had long, thin dreds that reached to his waist.  
"I suppose she wouldn't remember with everything she's been into. Max's success even appears in the Parisian papers from time to time."  
"I haven't forgotten you Adam. I was just shocked. I mean your paintings are- you know intimate. In high school you used to paint-"  
"Loud and abstract? I actually painted some of these more intimate pieces in high school.. I just never showed them to anyone. I was probably scared the guys would think I was "soft". You know how that thing is. But if you would excuse me, I need to finish making my introductions. But ladies, don't leave tonight with letting me say good bye."  
With one broad step Adam was to another couple, discussing his work. He seemed very casual about his work, just letting people appreciate it for what it was.  
"Pleasing to the eyes, wouldn't you say?" My sister interrupted my thoughts.  
"Yeah, he looks good." I said, indifferent.  
"And by the way he was eyeing you, I don't think he thought you looked so bad yourself." She said with a mischevious look in her eyes and a coy smile.  
"Why do you always have to start mess?" I said laughing. "Too much time on your hands."  
  
For the rest of the evening, Michelle and I split up and admired the work we liked alone. Michelle spent most of the night in the African works and I was immersed in the Childhood Scenes. On picture in particular, caught my eye. It depicted a little black girl with beautiful caramel skin and big brown eyes standing in the rain in her yellow raincoat and galoshes. She had a worried, scared look on her face and the formation of a tear in her eye. I stared at the picture for a long time. Something about the picture touched me deeply.  
"I guess you like that one." I jumped a little at the deep voice that was behind me. It was Adam again with two cups of champagne, one of which he handed to me.  
"Yeah, it's my favorite. Why don't you have these on sale tonight. I'm sure a lot of people want to buy them."  
"Well usually the first nights are purely for display, but I mean if you like the piece that much, purchase for tonight can be arranged." Adam said softly with a bright smile.  
"Really, how much?" I said as set the glass down and looked in my purse for my electrochecks.  
"Well, for an old friend- $300." He said with a laugh and a little sip of champagne  
"You're too kind." I said with a touch of sarcasm.  
"I'll get someone to take this to your car near the end of the night." He said slipping the check in his coat pocket. "If you ever want to view anymore pieces, here's my card." He slipped a small creme colored card to me. "I'm not in Gotham as much as I like to be, but we should get together sometime. However, this display is on for three more days, so I'll be in Gotham for the remainder of the week. Coffee sometime? Maybe tomorrow morning? Say nine?" He said looking for a hint of interest on my face.  
"Sure, it'll be fun."  
"Gotham Square at nine?"  
"Sure."   
  
Ooooooooooooooooooo! Seems like Max has a little interest on the side! What will become of Adam Stepnik? ( for those who are wondering who the heck Adam Stepnik is, he is actually a character from the show. Remember the episode "The Last Resort" where the parents were sending their kids away to that ranch? Well Adam was the black dude who slapped that guy across the head with an easel. 


	4. The night at home

Duty Calls and the Heart Shall Wait  
Chapter 4  
  
  
  
"So which one should I go to? I mean Johnson is great for my major, but Brinnley is great for the girls." My brother Matt asked tossing one of Warren's balls up in the air. Tonight it was just Warren and I, so I invited him over to keep us company.  
"Well, if you really want my opinion, I'd go to Brinnley," I said with a glance and a smile. "But don't tell mom I said that." My mother would freak if she found out that I was encouraging Matt to attend a renown party school. "But of course there's my alma mater good old Gotham U!" I said with a cheesy fist pump.  
"Wellllll," Matt began, "no. The whole idea is to get away from Gotham, not to go deeper into it. I'm so sick of psychos and concrete. In fact, maybe I'll skip college all together and go work on a farm."  
"Ooooooo, a farm! Can I go too, Uncle Matt, huh huh huh?" Warren said jumping up and down. "A farm with cows and chickens."  
"See there you go, given the boy ideas. Haven't you done enough to corrupt the poor child's mind." I said as I pulled Warren away from the flower pot he was digging into. "You're mama is going to have a fit if she finds dirt all over the carpet."  
"Aw, let the boy dig around in the dirt while he can. By the time he gets to be my age, Gotham will be a solid mass of concrete. Plus, it will be fun to see Max redecorate the whole room just because she has to replace the carpet." I shuddered at that thought, remembering the first time Max redid the house. Shortly after we moved into the manor, she insisted we change out the furniture and add new light fixtures. I put up a good fight, but like most of our arguments, she won. However, she did a pretty nice job and even let me add my personal touch here and there.  
"No, I think the manor needs to stay like it is. You'll get her started on one room and then she get even bigger ideas."  
"At least she left the batcave alone." At the mention of the batcave, I turned around and gave Matt a hard look. Ever since he found out about me being Batman, it had been a rule that he was never to let those two words out of his mouth for any reason, especially when Warren was in the room.  
"Sorry, it slipped." He said with a quick glance at Warren. "Besides, he's too young to understand what we're talking about."  
"You'd be surprised." I said with a sigh, remembering some of the rather mature questions Warren has come up with. "Anyhow, you remember all the reasons I gave you for trying my hardest to keep that a secret from you?"  
"Yeah the pretty lame reasons. Like 'endangering my life', 'not wanting me to tag along'. Stuff like that. But you have to admit, I was pretty slick in finding out."  
"No, you were pretty nosy. But I knew you were going to find out one way or another. I'm just glad it wasn't under the worst of circumstances." I said as I began to pick up all of Warren's blocks off of the floor. It was nearing his bed time and I figured if I slowly put up his toys, he wouldn't notice they were gone until it was too late.  
"So are you and Max ever going to tell him?" Matt said as he got up to help. He took a glance behind him to make sure Warren wasn't paying too much attention. Luckily he was fully endorsed in fitting as many people as possible into his toy airplane.  
"Not if we can help it. Don't you see how sneaky we are as it is. I mean the sequence code Max installed on the entrance to the cave would take a genius to figure out. I just hope she doesn't change it to keep me out of there."  
"Well, you have to admit, you spend a lot of time gone. I mean a lot. Between you and me, mom really wants to ask you about it. She says it's not 'healthy'." Matt remarked as he began to organize all of Warren's books on the shelf. He took glance through classics like as Green Eggs and Ham and the Little Mermaid. "Why do you have your kid reading such archaic books?"  
"Max says it gives him a sense of, I don't know some big word. Anyway, I realize I'm gone a lot, but it really can't be helped sometimes."  
"Well maybe if you wouldn't try to take on the world everyday maybe you would have time to be at home. You need to give something up."  
"If you're talking about-" I stopped and looked to see if Warren was still preoccupied and then said a little lower, "Batman, that's not hardly going to happen. I mean with all the gang war outbreaks and biochemical threats, I mean, it's just too crazy. Gotham needs me more than ever."  
"I understand that and all but just don't forget the ones that need you the most. I mean Max is really understanding and all, but don't take her for granted. You can only push a person so far."   
"So when did you become Dr. Phil, anyway. I thought I was the experienced adult."  
"Hey, I just call it like I see it, bro. I mean dad working as much as he did was half the reason he and mom got divorced in the first place."  
"Well, I here what you're saying, but this is different."  
"And God forbid it if Max gets bored."  
"What do you mean?" I said sitting back down, eager to here Matt's explanation.  
"I mean, you know women, especially the ones these days. Max is used to being a working girl and she'll eventually want to go back to that, I mean, once Warren starts school and everything."  
"She's been hinting at that, I think. But I'm one step ahead of both of you guys. Hold on a sec." I left the den and hurried to my office and grabbed a black leather folder off of my desk. As I sat back down, I handed the folder to Matt. "I've pulled out all the stops. She has complete control."  
"So she gets a piece all for herself. What's she going to do with it?"  
"Well for years now she has been making light weapons for me, well Batman, you know as a hobby. I've been talking to a few people in the government and if she redesigns a few of the weapons, Wayne Powers can distribute to every police force around the country."  
"Excuse the out of date lingo, but schway. Since you're hooking people up, how a breaking me off something?" Matt asked as he set the folder on the coffee table.  
"Whatever do you want, I mean it looks like I'll be paying for Brinnley." I said as I leaned back crossing my arms.  
"Well, I wouldn't mind a little graduation present- say a new red hover car?" Matt blurted out really fast.  
"A new car. Mom hardly wants you driving her care let alone any car, but I'll see what I can do."  
"Can I have a car too, daddy. Huh, huh, huh?" Warren piped up.  
"We'll see about that later, much later." I said as I glanced at the clock. It was 8:35 and Max still wasn't back yet. "But for now, how about we take a ride in the magical bath tub?" I said as I scooped him up in my arms.  
"Do I have to? I'm not tired. See?" Warren pulled down his bottom eyelids. I continued out the den anyway.  
"I think this is my cue to leave. I'll see myself out." Matt said as he got up from the couch and headed toward the door.  
"All right," I said as I carried Warren up stairs. "But tell mom you're really, really thinking about Brinnley and call me and tell me what she says." I heard the echo of an "okay" as Matt headed out the door.  
When I reached the bathroom I put Warren down and reached over to turn on the water. As soon as his feet touched the floor, Warren was scurrying out of the bathroom. I decided to let him roam for a few minutes while I got a towel and picked out some pajamas. After the water was at a decent level, I through a few bath toys in.  
"Warren!" I called out wanting him to return to the bathroom. "Warren!" I called out again. "I'm not about to chase you around anymore. Come in here now or you won't watch any Saturday morning cartoons." Warren slowly walked into the bathroom. I pulled him over to me and wrestled with his clothes. In about ten minutes he was cleaned and dressed and ready for bed. It was 8:45 and still no sign of Max. By them time I reached our bedroom to get the phone, I heard the beep of our security system and the creak of the front door.   
"I was getting a little worried there." I said as I came down the steps with Warren slowly falling asleep on my shoulder. Max came in struggling with a rather large square object. I traded Warren for the object and propped it up against the couch.  
"I told you I would be back in time." She said adjusting Warren on her shoulder. "Hold on," she said. "Let me go put him in the bed." I took the opportunity to go get the leather folder and place it on the coffee table near the couch.   
"So how was it," I said when Max finally came back downstairs.  
"It was culturally enriching. So much so that I brought home a piece." She said as she went over to the picture.   
"So that was what that thing was." I said as I took a seat on the couch next to her as she took the covering off the picture.  
"So what do you think?" She said as she showed me the picture of the little lonely black girl standing in the rain with a yellow rain jacket and galoshes on.  
"It's depressing. Why did you buy that one?"  
"I don't know, it just spoke to me. Hey what's that?" Max asked as she reached for the leather folder.  
"Something for you." I said as she began to read the contents. I watched her eyes grow big as she read the charter for Wayne Enterprises new light weapons division. "Let's just say out of all those hours at the office, a few of them were spent on you."  
"So this is mine? I'm CEO of the division?" She said looking at me with excited eyes.  
"It's all yours. You have a budget of 250 million and two years for the completion of the manufacturing site. In that time you'll need to have the majority vote from the stockholders. And of course you'll need to hire a staff." Max's smile had grown even bigger. "Not to mention by that time Warren will be in school, so you can more dedication to the project." By then Max had thrown her arms around me and was squeezing me tight. "This is big Max. The success of this division will determine whether or not I can buy out a fourth of the remaining stockholders." I grabbed Max by the shoulders and looked her deep in the eyes. "Max, I want 75% of the company."  
"Only 75?" She asked with a slight smirk. "By the time I get through, heck we'll have the whole thing in our possession." I gave a big smile at Max aspirations. In one big swoop I had picked her up off the couch and held her in my arms. I started walking toward the steps.  
"Terr, it's five 'til nine. Don't you have somewhere to be?"  
"Hey, all I need is five minutes." I said with a coy smile and the jump of my eyebrows as I carried her into the bedroom.  
  
****  
Patrols that night were not the most stressful, but they weren't as simple as they have been. The new police commissioner Bryant has taken great strides to improve the GCPD. However, there is only so much one can do for the GCPD. Max and I still have the occasional laugh over the fact that you'll have 15 GCPD officers shooting at one person and they'll all miss. Even still Commissioner Bryant's efforts have made my job a little easier. He's taken care of most criminals, you know, thieves, break- ins and illegal drug rings. But as for those more "interesting" law breakers, there's still a major need for me.  
As I was casually scanning the city streets, I saw a mugging in progress. Quickly slipping out of the jet I flew to the scene. The assailant was a stumpy, middle aged man dressed in a tux and bow tie with glasses and a cigarette that had to be from Bruce's time or before.  
"What the-" I began.  
"Batman," the assailant said in a low crackling voice. "So we meet again, old foe." He said turning around with a graceful bow. As he was giving his introduction the young lady he was attacking slipped off into the ally.  
"Okay exactly who are you?" I said as I took a hard look at him.  
"Why, the Penguin of course." It took everything inside of me to keep myself from laughing. This was as pathetic as it got.  
"So you mock me Batman? You won't be for long." Penguin exclaimed as he took a stab at me with his cane with the penguin head. Out of the bottom of the cane came a very sharp knife, but before he knew it, I had the cane against his throat.  
"You know I'm pretty sure you could find a job at a circus side show if you really tried." Penguin spit in my face. A thick wad of mucous spit was running down my face.  
"Okay, you didn't have to get dirty." I said as I snatched the handkerchief out of his coat pocket and wiped my face. "I really don't have time for it tonight." I said as I began to cuff him. In an instant, he and I were in the air. "Please keeps all ligaments in the vehicle at all times." I said in a fake airline attendant voice. "If you should need any assistance, please use the over head call button. Next stop Gotham City Jail."  
"You'll see Batman. I won't be stopped." He chuckled.  
"Sure, Sure. Just next time, come with something better than a cane." I exclaimed as I dropped him in front of the jail. It was just one of those nights.  
  
Note to readers: Max is getting a job! WOW! See now if we would all be patient..... Anyway, the scene with the Penguin wasn't much but believe me, he'll be back. 


	5. A chat

Chapter 5  
Duty Calls and the Heart Shall Wait  
by Imagination  
  
  
A beam of sunlight peered through a crevice in the curtains and brightly shone in my eyes. Squinting, I looked at the clock on the night stand: 6:55. Wrestling with the sheet caught around my foot, I groggily got out of bed, stumbling over all the clothes on the floor from last night. Regaining my balance, I turned on a lamp, turning it slightly so it wouldn't shine on Terry who, for once, was at home in bed this early in the morning. Normally, I'm not even up before nine, but today however, I had an appointment with Adam for coffee. I took a quick shower and debated with myself over what to wear. Last night Adam was looking at me a lot, but I blamed it on him not seeing me in a while and the pretty low cut dress I was wearing. However, to be on the safe side, I opted for a casual look: a pair of dirty denim jeans, a light brown shirt and matching jean jacket. Satisfied with my look, I grabbed my keys and headed toward the door. Just as I was about to close the door, however, I remembered that I didn't tell Terry that I was leaving. Not bothering to wake him, I wrote him a note and sat it on top of his glasses and turned up the volume of the baby monitor.  
  
In the car, I put on one of my favorite cds and settled in for the lengthy drive to Gotham. Since it was so early in the morning, I took the backroads so I wouldn't get caught in Gotham's two hour traffic delays. As I drove, I admired the beauty of the newly budding trees as I listened to the slow rhythm of the classic R&B singer Lauryn Hill. It was nice to be alone, and for once, at peace with a lot things in my life.   
  
After nearly an hour, I finally pulled into one of the cafe's parking spaces. As I switched off the ignition, I suddenly realized something. Sometimes I amaze myself about how much I don't think before I act. Resting my head on the steering wheel, I thought about how I would be sitting with another man, a famous man at that, and the implications that would arise. I mean, Terry and I haven't been forced into a life of complete seclusion because of who we are, nor do we intend for our life to be controlled by other people. But one thing I have become wary of is all the media that tends to follow us around. And believe me, Gotham City media is ruthless. I can't even count all the front pages of the society section Terry and I have made. I mean, ,just one photo of me and Adam together would be turned into some notorious affair. Sitting back in my seat I toyed with my car keys for a while, contemplating whether or not I should make up some excuse for why I couldn't come. "Warren was up all night or my sitter canceled..." I finally gave up and deciding that I would just lay low and take whatever the media threw at me.   
  
As I approached the entrance of the Gotham Square Cafe, I saw through the window that Adam was already seated at a booth. With a deep breath, I opened the door and walked toward the booth.  
"Max, so glad that you made it," Adam said as he reached for my hand and gently kissed it. His gesture startled me a little, but I had to remember that he has been in Paris for a while.  
"Yeah, sorry for being late." I said as I slid to the middle of the booth.  
"Maybe it's my fault for being early." He said with a chuckle and a bright smile. "My, we have so much to catch up on."  
"Yeah-" I began but was rudely interrupted by our waitress.  
"Are you ready to order?" the young girl asked seemingly agitated. Adam motioned to me, allowing me to order first.  
"I'll take a French Vanilla latte with a cinna bun." The waitress took the coffee mug shaped menu and turned to Adam.  
"And you?" She asked, leaning to the side with one hand on her hip.  
"A German chocolate espresso and a blueberry cinna bun." As the waitress was leaving, Adam gave her a look of disgust.  
"Well, at least I know not to leave her a big tip."  
"Give her a break. I bet we were just as rude when we were her age."  
"When we were her age," Adam said echoing my words. "You're trying to make us sound really old."  
"Well, I'm twenty-nine, so that makes you a strong thirty. Believe me, we're not kids anymore."  
"Yeah, so much has changed since then, most noticeably the color of your hair."  
"A little more subtle now, huh?" I said stroking my now black hair.  
"I remember that you once told me that you were going to be buried with pink hair. What happened to that plan?"  
"I probably said a lot of things like that when we were in high school."  
"Yeah, you did. I was just so surprised to see you last night. You've changed so much. I would have never imagined Maxine Gibson tied down at twenty-nine."  
"Oh yeah, and I never figured that Adam Stepnik would make it to twenty- one before he would be imprisoned." I said with a coy smile.  
"Ouch," Adam playfully rubbed his arm. "I used to be a really bad kid back then."  
"And a real jerk when you wanted to be. You, Nelson, Jerggin and the rest used to give everybody a hard time."  
"We never messed with you." He retorted.  
"I said you guys were jerks, not crazy. But it's kinda sad what happened to Nelson though."  
"Yeah, his whole career ruined because of possession. What's worse is that I know he wasn't the doing the drugs."  
"How you figure?" I said as I grabbed the coffee and cinna bun the waitress finally returned with.  
"I mean, everyone had Nelson all wrong in high school. He just talked stuff. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. Like all those girls he said he had and all that other stuff he said he did,"  
"Just talk?"  
"Exactly that. Nelson was too afraid of his dad. You guys just didn't know   
Nelson well enough."  
"Well, I know I didn't want to."  
"Funny, that you feel that way 'cause Nelson had a crush on you for all of our freshman year."  
I dropped a piece of my cinna bun when he said that. " You're lying."  
"Oh no I'm not. For like a whole month we heard nothing but 'Max this and Max that'"  
"Really," I said with a little laugh and a shriek.  
"Yep, and that's half the reason he messed with McGinnis so much. Ya'll hung out so much that he thought that McGinnis definitely had you."  
"Well Nelson must have been blind because Terry was all over Dana back then."  
"True, but believe it or not, everyone thought that you and Terry had something going on the whole time. We would mess with him about it all the time."  
"Terry, never told me that." I said, rather surprised. "Well, what did he tell you guys?"  
"Let me put it this way, he never denied or confirmed. We didn't know what to think."  
"I think somebody is going to get hit when I get home. Do you think Dana ever heard any of that?"  
"Dana was so aloof during high school. I'm pretty sure she didn't hear half the things people said about her."  
"Hey, Dana and I were friends, so that means there was a lot of talk about me too." Now I was very interested in having a very, very long talk with Adam.  
"Actually, no. People were afraid of you in high school."  
"Why?" I said with a crazy look.  
"Max, you must not remember much or you're trying very hard to forget. I mean you were-"  
"I was what?"  
"Different. I mean you were like one of those people no one could figure out. I mean you were like a brain, but you wore pink hair, and you were so focused, but your parents were never around. I mean with all those awards you won, people figured your folks had you locked in your room studying. But we never saw them at any awards program. It was a miracle they were at graduation."  
"Believe me, my younger years were not all that happy." I said as I stared into my cup of coffee. Adam sensed my lack of enthusiasm for the topic.  
"Max, I didn't mean to upset you."  
"Oh, I'm not mad. My folks is just one topic I try to stay away from as much as possible. But enough of that now." I said trying to change the conversation. "I want to know whatever happened between you and Chelsea that time. I mean you and Nelson didn't talk for along time after that."  
"Chelsea wasn't the only reason Nelson and I stopped being cool. But I'll say this, he should've been more angry at Chelsea than he was me. Everything that happened she initiated."  
"I think everyone figured that. I mean Chelsea was not shy..." I said chuckling.  
"No she wasn't, but she had nothing on Blade."  
"Let's not even go there."  
"Yes, enough about high school. You were a busy lady in college. How did you ever get associated with Bruce Wayne of all people."  
"My lovely wit and charm." I said sarcastically.  
"I hope you have a better answer than that."  
"But for real, I was involved in a internship with Wayne Powers during our senior year. Then, of course, Terry worked for him so I met him that way also."  
"Sufficient. Now answer this. How did you and McGinnis ever get together?"  
"Terry and I were together in high school."  
"So our suspicions were correct?"  
"Not entirely," I began, "Terry and I didn't get together until after he and Dana broke up. To save face, we kinda kept our relationship on the down low until graduation. To make a long story short, we both went to the University, kept seeing each other, and got married."  
"The lucky man," Adam sighed as he took a sip of his coffee.  
"What did you say?" I asked with a curious laugh. Adam shook his head from side to side.  
"Never mind. So how long have you guys been married? Any kids?"  
"Almost eight years. And yes we have a son, Warren. He's three. Would you like to see a picture?" As he nodded, I reached in my purse and handed him a picture of Warren.  
"Has his mother's looks. So is marriage everything people make it out to be?" He asked as he handed the picture back to me.  
"It's," I paused, " an adventure." I said with a sigh, nervously rubbing the back of my neck."  
"It's that the polite way of saying it's hell?"  
"No, my marriage isn't that bad. You know being married to the owner of a multi-national corporation isn't easy by any means."  
"I could only imagine. I remember about three years go, Terry was in Paris for three weeks for some type of business summit. I saw him for a moment and asked about you. He said you were at home, handling some things. Three week absences must bite."  
"Yeah, they do. I was probably pregnant at the time and unable to travel. Also, sometimes when Terry leaves for a long time, he likes to leave me behind to ensure that the company is ran correctly."  
"So are you happy?" He said quickly. I was a little surprised that he asked such a personal question. Instead of directly calling him out about it, I decided to give him a simple reply.  
"All things considered," I paused, "Yes, I'm happy. But tell me Adam, why aren't you married."  
"Truthfully, the perfect woman was taken long before I had a shot." He remarked as he fiddled with the end of one of his locks.  
"And who might that have been," I asked stupidly. Adam looked straight up at me. "Me!" I exclaimed. "Hold on, I mean, we were pretty good friends in high school, but I never knew you felt that way."  
"Would that have changed anything?" I didn't answer. For the life of me, I didn't answer. Adam continued, "Well, I did feel that way and seeing you last night reminded me of how much you meant to me. I mean, I never acted upon it because of Nelson and then because I didn't know what to make of you and McGinnis."  
"So what was telling me this now supposed to accomplish?" I said regaining some of my composure.  
"I don't know. I was going to let you decide that. I didn't really believe anything would come of it, but now I think differently."  
"How so?" I could not believe what was happening. I couldn't believe that I was actually entertaining suggestions from Adam.  
"By looks that have come across your face today, it just seems that you're unhappy and tired being unhappy." My level of shock increased. I could not believe what I was hearing. Part of me wanted to run out of that cafe as fast as possible, and part of me wanted to hear this out.  
"Adam," I began, "You know, I'm amazed at myself that I haven't slapped you by now-"  
"Maybe because you know I'm telling the truth." He interrupted.  
Ignoring his comment, I continued, "You have no right to guess or assume how I feel about anything, especially my marriage. Now I won't lie, because lying won't change the facts. Terry and I have our problems, too many in fact, but I love him and no matter what, I always will. My dedication to him, although often shaken, it's never moved." Adam turned away and began to gather his things. I rested my head on my arms, trying to understand the last five minutes.  
"I'm sure you feel that way. But if you ever change you're mind. Here's my card." He said as he placed the card and two creds on the table. He leaned down, quickly scribbled something on the card, touched my shoulder, and left.  
"You guys finished?" the rude waitress was back again. I lifted my head and gave her the creds. "Where's my tip?"  
"Up yo' duke and around the corner." I said with a flare of attitude from my high school days. The waitress abruptly left, and I sat there a few more minutes not really thinking about anything. I glanced over and saw that Adam's card was still sitting on the table. With one flick it was on the floor. I gathered my jacket and purse and slid out of the booth. I walked about two steps and stopped. I turned and looked back at the card on the floor. Hastily, I picked it up shoved it in my pocket, and hurried out of the cafe.  
  
  
Well, well, well.... This story is far from over and believe me this is just a bump in the road. School is out for summer break so I'm going to try to finish this asap. Also, thanks for all the reviews. I'm happy to know that a few people like my little experiment. Trying to write about characters who are really 18 and put them in the midset of the late 20's is not easy at all. Thanks for the support! 


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